


It's a process

by Chyrstis



Series: Trying's worth something, right? [2]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-24 20:34:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6165906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chyrstis/pseuds/Chyrstis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It hadn’t been long, but she was starting to get a loose idea of how this particular merc operated. Enough of one to see that this short-term arrangement might actually keep on working if she decided to extend it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This should've been finished a month ago, but better late than never, right? Direct sequel to Let's make a deal.

She woke up to the smell of cigarettes.

Reaching around her, V let her hands drift for a bit, expecting to find a warm body nearby, only to feel the torn edges of the carpet under her. Swallowing hard as her vision cleared, she let her eyes dart around the small room until she found MacCready perched by the only entrance to it.

The cigarette dangled from his fingertips as he rested there, his shoulders set and his rifle close. His attention was focused on a fixed point beyond what she could see, the cigarette almost an afterthought, but he slowly raised it back to his lips as the seconds ticked by.

The minute he caught her staring at him, however, he quickly stubbed it out on the floorboards. “Boss. You’re up early.”

Her throat closed up, making her sound hoarse. “I can do that. Get up early. Function. Whatever.”

The scent threatened to throw her off. It was a harmless thing, reminding her of mornings where she’d find Troy with the paper in one hand, and a cigarette in the other. Having a small moment to himself before coming back to wake her-

She pressed a hand to her eyes as she tried like hell to slow her heart rate down. MacCready also didn’t need to see the wild look she wore any more than he already had. She was grateful he didn’t call her on it.

The old house they were holed up in had seen far better days. Boards were slapped up over select spaces, and there was a crack running through the roof that gave them all access to the sky, but it held. It wasn’t the most fortified, but up on the second floor there were fewer entry points, and MacCready currently had a clear line on both of them. Just the stairs to the first floor, and the fire escape waiting outside of the blown out window across from them. The crude traps she’d set last night were their final defense, but she was glad to see hadn’t come into play just yet.

“Anything off?” she asked. _Other than me?_

He shifted up the wall, scanning the window further down, and angled his head back towards her. “Heard voices about ten minutes back. Could’ve been traders on the move, Other than that, no rasps, roars, or growls, though, so…eh?”

“Eh?”

Her expression changed to mirror his, and he shrugged. “Eh. We’re not dead or dying yet, so I think we can call it clear.”

She sighed deeply. “It’s going to be one of those days, isn’t it?”

V sat up and immediately groped for her hat. The sleeping bag twisted around her as she dragged the none-too-gently used hat onto her head, and she kicked the bag away as soon once she was able to free herself from it. Folding her legs under her, she yawned, grateful that the muscles in her face no longer screamed whenever she tried such a maneuver, and pulled out her pistol to give it a once-over. It didn’t take long. Just a few seconds to work the slides and get the dust off until she was able to settle down and clean it properly, and she slipped it into her holster while giving her rifle the same once-over.

“You said you were interested in factories, right? Heavy machinery, and all the junk that goes with it?”

She paused, suddenly very aware of MacCready’s eyes on her, and nodded. “Something like that. Batteries, wiring, circuitry. I’ve got a few things back home that I’m looking to soup up. Why? Bored already?”

He opened his mouth to keep on going, but let out a short laugh first. “We’ve got bars and breweries galore around here too. Just in case you want some variety.”

“Oh, my,” she said, waggling her eyebrows at him. “Thought we were angling more for business than pleasure?”

“We take what hasn’t already been picked over. It’s going to be rough sailing no matter where we go. But even if we try those places, there’s always something that slips through the cracks, and I know at least two guys that would kill to have a reliable ice box, fridge, whatever, for their stock. Steal a few cold ones on top of that, and they’ll be willing to talk extra.” He rubbed the back of his neck for a few seconds, and let his eyes slip shut. “Besides, if we’re stuck doing this, we might as well find some way to turn it into a good time.”

A part of her couldn’t argue with that. The other, more responsible parts of her reminded her that caps weren’t the only thing on the line here. That made her sober up quickly as she drew her Pip-Boy close. “What’s closest to us?”

“All sorts of stuff. You throw a dart at the mini-map you’ve got on that thing, and chances are good you’ll get a hit.”

“Just gotta pick my poison, eh?” V clicked her tongue against her teeth as she tapped her nails along the edges of the large screen. “This is going to take a while.”

“I was afraid you were going to say that,” MacCready muttered, and got up to stretch his legs. “We’re good here for another hour or two, but that doesn’t mean we should use it.”

* * *

She ticked another day off on their contract, and had to admit that so far the caps had been well-spent.

While she’d assumed that MacCready had been puffing himself up a bit during his pitch, he seemed set on living up to the rep put forward. Not only did he know the surrounding area like the back of his hand, it seemed like all she had to do was snap her fingers, and he’d make a potential problem disappear.

Raiders? Sure. The odd feral? No problem. Super mutants? Those worked on a case by case basis, since neither of them were particularly thrilled by the idea of crashing one of their nests, but he refused to drop his boast that he could ping a helmet off of one of them, and she wasn’t about to push him to prove it.

The one time V actually did try to jokingly snap her fingers at him to get moving earned her a withering look, but within minutes he was in position and picking off targets as quick as she could point them out.

It hadn’t been long, but she was starting to get a loose idea of how this particular merc operated. Enough of one to see that this short-term arrangement might actually keep on working if she decided to extend it. Not that she was going to cut him loose after heading back to home base, but that was where their established ‘contract’ was supposed to end, with his pay coming out of whatever they were able to dig up.

With her other companions already spoken for in terms of day-to-day commitments, an extra gun that seemed damn near willing to go anywhere at the drop of a hat – at least going by his pitch – was invaluable. Sanctuary would be the final test, but that was further down the line. For now, all he had to do was keep on, keeping on, even if his only orders for the day were to grab anything that wasn’t nailed down.

Today’s orders were shaping up to be similar. Minus one potentially large issue that needed cracking.

Haymarket Mall. The so-called place to be for any happening Bostonian back in the day, it was now one promising place to hole up for a bunch of enterprising raiders. Large barriers made of metal and garbage kept the front of the place obscured, and she shuffled in place anxiously while MacCready climbed to a higher point to check it out.

“You sure about this?” He held up his binoculars, and frowned the longer he stared through them. “The mall’s a good spot, but we could always drop by the Bugle.”

“Nope. I’ve got a friend that would skin me alive if I tried heading there without her.” _And will likely do that on principle once we meet up again, so…_ “So, we’re going with that.”

“That.”

“Yep. It’ll probably be a mess, but we can weave our way through that no problem, right? Lack of avid shoppers, notwithstanding?”

He lowered the binoculars and hopped down from the now-empty guard post. “I’m starting to think we’ve got two very different ways of looking at the same problem, boss.”

“Is that a no?”

“No, it’s…” His fingers tapped away at the stock of his rifle, as he looked over at the walls keeping them hidden, and let out a breath. “Definitely doable. Just a lot more excitement than I thought we’d have today. We’re talking five or six Gunners floating around outside, at least one turret, and there’s no telling how many others are in there.”

“Probably wouldn’t be great to wait for nightfall, eh?”

He gave his watch a once-over and shook his head. “No, they’ll have the spotlights up by then. How do you want to do this?”

“Carefully. Very carefully.” She gestured towards his binoculars. “Do you mind if I…?” He slowly handed them over, and she hoisted herself up to the same position he’d taken a few minutes ago.

MacCready hadn’t undersold it. From her spot, crouched low, she could make out three people in twisted, metal armor pacing around the area. The turret up above them swept the grounds for any movement, and if they were half as organized as they seemed to be, their defenses would hold up inside.

Chewing on her lip hard, she made sure to be careful with the binoculars as she jumped back down, and promptly handed them back. “Okay, so…definitely still going with the careful angle.”

“No kidding,” MacCready replied. “Unless you’ve got a rocket launcher stashed around here that I don’t know about, starting things off with a bang’s out.”

“You’re a decent climber, right?”

He gave her a curious look, but didn’t shake his head. “I’m not allergic to it, but I’d cross scaling ludicrously high objects off of the list of things I’m okay with.”

“It wouldn’t be that damn high, but fine. Scratch that.” Another idea hit, one that didn’t put either of them in as perilous a spot. “I need a rock.”

“And?” he asked, now wary.

“You need to head to the other side of this encampment. With your rifle raised and ready to fire at a second’s notice.”

“Okay… Why?”

“Because,” V said, picking up a choice rock, “plan B involves me chucking these at people, and for every person that comes calling, you’re going to punch their ticket. Sound good?”

“That’s careful?”

Her sheepish grin was not in the least bit reassuring, and she knew it. “Uh, no. Not really.”

“Jesus,” MacCready breathed, “it is busted.” Swiping a hand across his forehead, he tugged on the brim of his hat to readjust it and faced her directly. “All right, level with me, boss. Is that how you want to play it? Distract, divide, and so on?”

“Yeah. I tag ‘em, you bag ‘em. Pretty cut and dry, at least until the shit starts hitting the fan. If that happens, dive for the nearest cover and pray I haven’t gone for the grenades.”

“I’ll give you a whole unabridged version of a Hail Mary if we manage to pull this off.”

She barely stifled a snort. “Hey, we’re talking worst case scenario here. I wouldn’t suggest any of this if I didn’t think we could pull it off. So, what do you say, ace? Ready to show me more of your moves?”

It took a moment, but the smirk he gave her was nothing but sure. “Aren’t I always? Just waiting on you to return the favor, boss.”

“In due time, in due time.” V winked at him, and crouched down to grab a few more rocks. “Can’t just rush a girl, you know.”

* * *

The first guy they targeted she ended up smacking right in the nose. Mouthing ‘two points’ to herself, she crept back into her hiding place as the others started, and then burst into laughter. Pride demanded he go check things out, so he did. MacCready’s bullet found him shortly after. The shot rang through the air, and the entire mood of the camp shifted.

The next person she managed to tag on the shoulder. Two went this time – both of them armed – and she hoped the line of nervous jargon running through her head wasn’t escaping her as she worked to lure them away. Mac’s bullet found one, and her switchblade found the other.

“Who’s there?”

Pressing her back against the wall of scrap, V stashed the blade after wiping it off, and tried to keep her breathing steady. Three of them were gone. Of course they were on edge now.

MacCready poked his head out from his position on the opposite side, and made a few hand motions before ducking back into cover. She recognized most of what he relayed; keep quiet, and hold position, but the one after that wasn’t clear. Leaning forward, she tried to see where the ragged tail of his duster disappeared to only to throw herself back into hiding just as fast.

The raider came out of the corner of her vision, shotgun raised, only to drop a fraction of a second later. Moving around the barrier, she raised her head only to drop back into the place as the turret whirred into motion. Yelling was coming from all sides now, and she hurriedly dug through the pouches at her side. The throw was sloppy, sending the grenade in an arc that she couldn’t watch for as she dove for the next barrier.

The explosion that followed she was pleased with. The furious woman waiting on the other side, not so much.

Metal whistled through the air as the woman swiped at her, bringing her tire iron down as she snarled. Moving to the right of her, V shoulder-checked her into the brick wall, scrambling to keep her feet from skidding back. She ducked fast, dodging the tire iron by the skin of her teeth, and shot back up. Her knee came up once, then twice into the woman’s midsection, but she didn’t fall to the ground until V brought her 10 mm down onto the back of the Gunner’s skull. The two shots that followed the blow were a guarantee that she’d stay there.

A loud whistle made V whip around, her finger still on the trigger, and MacCready quickly raised his hands. “Whoa, hey!”

“Fucking A,” she said, angling her gun away from him, “you can’t just pop out like that! I was that close to firing on you!”

He didn’t look any worse for wear, but the wide-eyed ‘Jesus, she might actually fucking shoot me’ look lingered a beat longer than she hoped it would. “…I was going to let you know that we’ve wrecked a whole lot of people’s days, but yeah. Trigger discipline, boss. You do not want to fumble that.”

When he was well out of the way of her crosshairs, he dropped his hands and walked over to the woman she’d dropped. He pulled the camouflage bandana off of her, and eyed it with disgust before tossing it aside.

V found her attention drawn to the bold B+ tattooed on her forehead, but MacCready didn’t even give it a second glance. What he seemed to be focused on was the sawed-off shotgun by her side.

“Gunners, right?”

He craned his head her way until he noticed her eyes on him. “Yeah.”

“Don’t think I’ve seen one up close like this yet.”

“Well, they’re ugly at any distance, so keep clear if you can. Or just keep your gun ready. Both’ll work wonders. Anyway, that was only round one. Ready for round two?” he asked, lifting the weapon up to give it a better look.

“Give me a sec. Just gotta check to see that any and all bleeding’s being kept to a minimum.” Her hands went to her gear, checking for the essentials, and rapped her knuckles against the metal plate of her chest piece. Still solid. Still strong. Good. “How’re you holding up? Any questions, comments, or complaints?”

“Your follow-through’s in need of some serious polish, boss. Might want to add some oomph to your throws next time.” The corners of his mouth twitched up, but when she turned on her heel to face him fully, he snickered. “Hey, you asked.”

“Yes. Yes, I did,” she groused.

Unloading the last couple of shells from the shotgun, he popped them into the pouch on his thigh, and went back to searching the Gunner. “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but…”

V’s eyes widened as he withdrew the walkie-talkie, and dropped her hands from her hips. Static went off, followed by voices. It wasn’t clear, but he fiddled with it for a few seconds, and she moved closer to join him.

_“Hello?”_

MacCready climbed to his feet, and the two of them listened for another sound.

_“Dammit, anyone below that has an idea of how to operate these damn things needs to get up here. Now! They’re just-“_ A crash came through, followed by more swearing. _“Just come on up. Before Rian gets it in his head to find another solution.”_

“Huh. This could work out well for us.” V rubbed her chin, and waited for another call.

It came through, the signal breaking up along the way, but after the repeated call for help, MacCready switched it off. “If they’re all upstairs messing around with whatever equipment’s gone off, yeah. Still want to play this carefully?”

She pursed her lips. “Mostly.”

“Then how about we follow my lead this time around?” He readied his rifle, and started walking backwards towards the doors, all the while keeping his eyes on her. “Simple in and out to clear out the rest, just to show you how it’s done.”

“Oh?” She didn’t let him get too far ahead of her, and stayed behind just enough to see eye-to-eye with him. “You’ve got some lessons to impart?”

“Nah, nothing like that.”

“Or are you gunning for a bonus?”

That left a glint in his eye. “Depends on what you might be talking, boss. I mean, I’m always willing to go above and beyond the call of duty, but if you want to make it worth my while...”

She pushed at his shoulder. “Keep walking, pal. One thing at the time.”

* * *

The first thing that hit V was the light. Warm and bright, the small bonfire lit up the room and threatened to blind her if she stared at it any longer.

Creaking the doors open slowly, they crossed the open room, favoring the right side - MacCready in front, with her bringing up the rear. Judging from her quick sweep, it was empty, or at least seemed to be until she spotted someone in the room ahead of them. Their back was turned, and she mentally crossed her fingers that it would stay that way.

The only way up appeared to be the staircase in the center, and from where they were standing they couldn’t see a single soul on the upper level.

MacCready held up a finger to his lips, and flicked his eyebrows up at her before moving forward. Crossing the distance in no-time flat, she watched him slip into the small room, and didn’t waste a second before slamming the butt of his rifle into the helmet of the raider. They went down with a muffled yell, but he got to them before they could shout again.

He looked her way, and motioned for a thumbs up or a thumbs down. Shrugging slightly, she gave him part of a thumbs up. The flat look she received in response had her shrugging back at him, but when the soft thud of footfalls started echoing overhead, both immediately went for their weapons.

Taking the lead this time, V kept her rifle up as she moved towards the stairs. The fire by the foot of them roared, and she tried not to let it play tricks on her eyes.

“Hey, Jonesy! Seems like they’re still fucking around on the third floor.”

The footsteps came closer and V waited for the first hint of motion, her finger itching to pull the trigger.

“Jones?”

The first shot was a hair higher than she hoped, but the second hit the raider right between the eyes. Exhaling slowly through her nose, V held her position until she saw MacCready’s signal – a blasé half-thumbs up – and moved further up the staircase.

Motioning to take one while she covered the other, she moved through the upper level in record time, giving each room a quick sweep for any stragglers until they found themselves parked in front of the elevator again.

Once it was deemed clear, the two grabbed any and all discarded weapons and meds they could find and stashed them in the backpack V carried with her. It wouldn’t go upstairs with them, but on the way out they could simply grab it and run.

She had her eye on the batteries hooked up to the nearby spotlights, but put off her efforts to disconnect them in favor of waiting by the elevator. It wasn’t a job she could rush, and with her adrenaline running high, her odds of getting a nasty jolt were way too high to risk.

When MacCready joined her, he had another discarded walkie-talkie in hand. It crackled as they sat there listening to it, but when no more warnings came, he shut it off.

“Anything?”

“Nope,” he said, punching the call button to summon the elevator. “Nothing but static.”

“So, we’ve got a fifty-fifty shot here. Either the rest of the crew’s fucking around with the tech upstairs, or the tech’s flipped it and started fucking with them. Lovely odds to walk into.” The doors slid open, and he swept a hand towards them. “And you’ll let me go in first? Why, MacCready, you shouldn’t have.”

“You say that like I won’t have your back the entire time, boss. Ladies first.”

They walked in, standing side-by-side, and V shook her head before pressing the button for the second floor. Crouching down, she switched to her pistol and counted down the seconds until the elevator opened.

_One, one-thousand. Two, one-thousand. Three, one-thousand. Four, one-thousand…_

_Ding._

V swallowed the growing lump in her throat and pressed herself against the side of the elevator.

It opened up into a dark room, leaving the two squinting to spot anything. But the minute V started sneaking ahead to gauge what was waiting, she came to a dead stop.

“Stop fucking with it!”

Her hair stood on end, but no one burst through the closed door ahead. Glancing back towards MacCready, she wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or concerned that he seemed just as on edge as she was. His lips were pressed into a thin line as he kept a tight grip on his rifle, and he took a few careful steps forward until he came up beside her.

“You’re the one that wanted it on! Doing anything and everything to jigger with it until I was able to finally unlock and activate it.”

“Because now we’re stuck with a robot that doesn’t even fucking work!”

“Well, shit,” V muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

If they got the Protectron to obey them – and she was pretty certain that was what they were messing with – that would give them some serious firepower as back up.

_“This workspace has been deemed unsafe,”_ the electronic voice droned. _“All workers should be wearing their designated safety equipment. Correct the violation in question, or measures will be taken.”_

“Respond! Respond, you piece of shit! Dammit, I thought you fixed it!”

“I did!” another voice replied. “Don’t blame me for this two-ton hunk of junk blowing a gasket! Probably needs a good smack to get it running right.”

“Oh, man.” MacCready chuckled nervously as the voices kept on rising in volume. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“Don’t. Get away from the damn thing.”

_“You are in violation of the proper safety measures. All workers should be wearing their designated safety equipment. “Correct the violation in question, or measures will be-“_

“Let me just-“

A shot went off, and the entire room erupted into a hail of noise.

They ran for the elevator, ready to close the doors and go, but whatever hell was being unleashed on the other side of that door stayed contained. Or did as much as the rotting wood allowed. Bullets ricocheted, making both of them flinch when more than one came dangerously close to the elevator itself, but just as suddenly as it started, the noises came to a complete stop.

She drew in a shuddering breath, and clapped a hand over her mouth.

The faint sound of heavy steps could be heard. There was a delay between them, but they seemed to be moving further away.

_“Protect and…serve. Pro-tect…and serve.”_

“Great,” MacCready muttered. “Of all the things to miraculously make it, it would be that effing thing.”

“It sounds pretty fucking damaged, though.” V kept her eyes wide as she continued adjusting to the low light, and steeled herself. “…I think I can work with that.”

She left the elevator and moved right up to the door. Pressing her ear against it, she couldn’t hear much beyond it, and backed away far enough to slowly turn the doorknob. The long creak made her screw her eyes shut in frustration, but once it was open she forced her rifle up and slipped inside.

The Protectron couldn’t be seen from her spot by the door. This was both a blessing and a curse, because for all she knew, it could see her perfectly. Directly in front of her, however, was a path up to the next floor. The ceiling had caved in, the tiles forming a solid enough platform that could hold her, and she gave it a try.

She reached the upper level without a problem, looking back to see where MacCready was. He lingered by the door, his eyebrows raised, but didn’t move to join her.

Crouching low, she peered through the gap between the floors.

_“…And serve. P-protect and…”_

Sparks lit up in the distance, and she quickly gestured for him to stay in place. He pointed to his right, making another sign after that that she couldn’t recognize, and she made an ‘X’ in the air with her hands. Do not pass ‘Go’. Do not collect two-hundred dollars.

MacCready readied his rifle, and sidled up to the corner to take aim, steadying his arms on the remains of a nearby desk.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Good. From that spot, he’d be able to draw a decent bead on it if it decided to swing back this way. That still didn’t eliminate it as a potential problem, however.

But if she could plant a mine and lure it this way…

The idea clicked, and she started sifting through her pouches again. She only had two mines on her, both of them frag, but they’d get the job done.

Creeping down the pathway, she held up the mine when MacCready looked her way and she jerked her head in the direction of the Protectron. He seemed far from pleased, but gave her a tight nod as he returned to his position.

The ruined desks were the only source of cover she could work with, and made sure to keep every part of her – hat included – below that point. That left her close to crawling across the floor, and she moved at a snail’s pace until she could peek around the corner. The footsteps on the other side of the room remained slow and heavy, but she couldn’t see a damn thing from there.

_Fuck it. This’ll have to do._ She set the mine, and tested the arc of the throw. _Just imagine it’s a Frisbee. A very dense Frisbee. Same principle, different weight._

After one more try, she let it fly. It hit the ground with an ungraceful flop.

V slapped her forehead, and nearly yelped when she heard the electronic voice of the Protectron respond.

_“This w-workplace has been deemed-workers should be wearing…safety equipment.”_

Scrambling back, she tried to keep her steps quiet as she retreated. MacCready was covering her, but not even that fact seemed to slow her pulse as she shuffled past him.

Once she was safely up the path to the next floor, he fired. She couldn’t tell if the first shot hit, but the second cut off the Protectron’s stuttered statement.

The beam cut into the space roughly midway between their positions, leaving nothing behind but a smoking hole in the wood. It blasted off two more - one swinging close to MacCready – but after her potshot, one nearly grazed her.

_How far was it from the mine? Did she…was it not far back enough?_

V grit her teeth, and leaned out again. “Hey! Yeah, I’m talking to you! We’re talking a serious break in protocol this way!”

_“Pro-pro-pro-“_

The beam hit the wall giving her cover, and she poked her head out. “What do you think we should do about that?”

She almost lost her hat with that stunt, and MacCready whistled loudly. “Hey, trash heap! Could you get a freaking move on already! We’re burning daylight over here!”

Damn fool idiot. He was just as bad as she was.

_“Ser-ser-ser-and…”_

_Beep, beep, beep-_

The room shook as the explosion went off, making her knees wobble as she braced herself. Smoke followed soon after, rushing into any space it could occupy. Mac didn’t move an inch, staying frozen in place as the smoke started to obscure him from her, and she crept back down to join him.

“We left the shotguns downstairs, didn’t we?”

“Didn’t want to lug that crap around with us if there wasn’t a point to it,” he hissed back. “Might want to check that guy, though.” He jerked his chin towards the body crumpled just to the right of the pathway. “One in five chance’s better than nothing.”

She stayed by his shoulder, squinting at the figure to see if she could pick anything out. “One in five?”

“Hey, I can be generous. Sometimes.” He gestured towards it again, this time making sure to catch her eye first. “Any day now, boss.”

Staying low, she quickly patted down the Gunner for his weapon. The harness he wore did little to protect him, judging from the charred burns marking him, and she looked away once her stomach began to twist. Within a few inches of his left hand, however, was a what appeared to be a sawed-off shotgun. She groped for it, feeling her arm strain as she reached for it, and quickly pulled it over once she was able to grab the stock.

One shell left. It would have to do.

V raised the shotgun and walked towards what remained of the Protectron. Its exposed wires sparked as its arms wound up and down in place, working on pure reflex now, rather than actual commands.

Taking aim, she inhaled and exhaled slowly, curling her finger around the trigger, only to hesitate when the Protectron’s motions began to slow. Within seconds, the lights died, and she lowered her weapon.

“Jesus. That was…” - _incredibly ill-advised and poorly planned_ \- “really tense, huh?”

MacCready lifted his rifle up and let out a long breath. “Tense. Yeah, we’ll go with that.”

“Looks like there’s only one floor left to go, though.” She jabbed a thumb towards the path she used for cover. Lucky for her the motion only wobbled a fraction, but she quickly set her hand back on her hip. Damn adrenaline. “One last mystery door. What do you say we clear that, and then enjoy the spoils?”

“Fine. Not like there’s much else that can top whatever this mess was,” he muttered, kicking the boot of the downed Gunner. “You want point?”

“I think I want point.”

She needed some way to burn this off, and moving seemed to be the only outlet available right now. Keeping her newly acquired shotgun close, she started heading for the door, only for MacCready to speak up.

“Hey, boss? Before you go…”

She turned just in time to catch what appeared to be an ammo pouch, one conveniently filled with shotgun shells. Just what the doctor ordered.

“You might want to adjust it after you slip it on since it used to belong to our buddy over here, but extra ammo never hurt anyone.”

“Is that your way of telling me I’m going to need it?” she teased, before bending over to strap it on.

“Hey, you want to press your luck, fine by me. I’m just saying, keep yourself covered, so I won’t have to work double-time to pick up your slack.”

“Are you calling me sloppy?”

“No…” he drawled, and when V stood up straight to eye him, he followed it up with a grin. “But while I don’t mind the exercise, I’m only one guy. I can only work so many miracles.”

He _absolutely_ was.

She stood up, and pinched her lips together. Then jabbed her finger at him before turning on her heel. It was a pitiful reaction, but she doubted that calling him an aggravating little jerkface would’ve done much better.

So, she did what she intended to do to begin with. Take point, and figure out what the hell might be waiting for them.


	2. Chapter 2

The door was stuck, and resisted when she pushed against it. Shoving at it harder, she made it a point not to look back, and forced it open on the fourth try. Drawing the shotgun up, she hugged the wall as she slipped through, and was surprised to feel the sun on her arms.

The mall’s roof was an open area, empty aside from the debris that had been dragged there over the years. What caught her attention, however, was the almost verdant greenery growing up there. The small park had to have been a beautiful stopping point for tired shoppers and families in its heyday. Just a quiet spot to take a moment and rest, undisturbed by anything.

Sweeping left to right, she waited a solid minute before lowering her weapon, but didn’t take a single step out onto the grass. Disturbing it almost seemed wrong, somehow, and she angled her head towards the door. “Clear!”

MacCready’s shadow appeared out of the corner of her eye, but when she looked towards him, his rifle remained raised. She didn’t blame him at all for the added security as he gave the space another scan, but once he caught her raised eyebrows, he lowered it. Only a fraction, but enough for her to see his own eyebrows flick up. “Not seeing a whole lot up here, boss.”

“No. Anything that might’ve been here was blown away or fell apart a long time ago. Shame. Would’ve been nice to kick back and take a load off for a while.”

“Up here?”

“Yeah,” she said, framing the greenery with her fingers. “A small table, and a couple of beers, and we’d have a pretty…”

It was faint, but the sound of engines caught her attention. Coming from her right, she turned her eyes towards the horizon, and kept on looking until she saw the Vertibird.

“Uh, boss?”

V tilted her hat back to better see it, and pointed off into the distance. “Vertibird.”

Wandering over towards the edge of the building, she tried to spot any sign of a disturbance below. Anytime she’d heard the roar of engines before, the Brotherhood had set their sights on a super mutant compound, or a group of ferals. This time they didn’t seem to be firing on much of anything, and that alone was a relief.

Still, anyone could be on it. Initiates, scribes, knights. Hell, even Danse. No Paladin was left idle for long, and he never seemed content if he had to linger in one place.

“Where’s it going?”

Snapping herself out of it, she squinted at the aircraft as it continued to fade out. “Definitely not our way. I give it a minute more, and I doubt I’ll even be able to pick it out.”

MacCready spat on the ground behind her, and she could hear the distaste in his voice. “Good riddance. Wherever they go tends to end up a smoking crater, so let’s hope they don’t decide to turn that around.”

Her back remained turned as she mulled over his words, but couldn’t resist peeking at him. “They?”

“The Brotherhood. You know, armored a-holes, generally touchy about anything ranging from computers to flip-lighters?” His mouth twisted bitterly. “Don’t even bother talking to them, just turn around and get out before things go south, because they always do.”

_Always?_ “Speaking from experience, or…?”

“Trust me, boss. They’re bad news, and the sooner they move on the better.”

V pursed her lips, but gave him a short nod before turning away. “Noted.” The lump that formed in her throat took longer than needed to swallow, but she forced it down as she watched the aircraft continue on its course.

It finally flew out of sight, carrying its crew with it, and she let out a sigh.

She glanced over at her now-silent partner, only to catch a flash of movement. Her eyes cut to the right, towards the large, scaled beast from hell climbing up over the edge of the building, and her heart leapt right into her throat.

Deathclaw. The likes of which she’d only officially dealt with once, and that was while wearing an ancient suit of power armor, spraying a hell of a lot of bullets, and Preston covering her. Two things that she was very much missing right at this moment.

_Shit._

_Shit, shit,_ shit _._

MacCready grabbed her roughly by the arm and pulled, guiding her towards the roof’s exit as the roar filled the air. Somehow he fumbled the door open, slamming it against the brick, and neither cared enough about the possibility of it fitting through the doorway to stop and block it off.

They practically slid down the collapsed path to the elevator, and he hit the call button as soon as it was within reach. V was the one to hit the button for the first floor as they slammed their backs against the far wall, but she didn’t stop jabbing at it until the doors were well and truly shut.

That was when she realized MacCready’s mouth was going. It didn’t make sense at first – the ringing in her ears was too damn loud to make out much else – but once her body quit shaking, his words started to come through. “-please, please don’t let those freaking things know how to operate elevators or doors. Please don’t let a crap situation get worse, because they always can.”

The small space shook as the elevator made its way down, both of them slumped against the far side of it. In the back of her mind, she was aware of the fact that his grip on her wrist wasn’t loose by any means of the word, but he didn’t let go. Only kept on muttering to himself until the ding of the bell cut over him.

“MacCready?”

“Yeah?”

Her heart didn’t want to stop thudding against her ribcage. “I never did do much of the church thing, but I don’t think that’s how it goes.”

“Long as you got the basics down, do you really think anyone’s going to give a shit?” He swallowed hard after the statement left his mouth, but after running a hand over his face, he seemed calmer. “Please don’t tell me you want to go back up there.”

“I really, _really_ don’t want to go back up there.”

“Good.” He let go then, flexing his fingers as he looked her over quickly. “Because if it’s all the same to you, I feel like I’ve shaved ten years off of my life.”

“Almost makes scavving exciting in comparison, huh?”

He looked right at her, his hat crooked on his head, and said evenly, “Don’t push it, boss.”

“Figured I’d try, but…before we get too ahead of ourselves, what do you say we grab as much as we can carry and switch locations? I’m not really digging this spot much anymore. Agreed?”

“Abso-friggin-lutely.”

* * *

They grabbed whatever bags and random gear they could carry and booked it. Darting through the ruined buildings, they didn’t stop until they were positive they lost their tail, and made sure they weren’t running into a worse situation than the one they’d left.

The way out north, they settled for digging through a bombed out general store. Lucky for her this one wasn’t a) inhabited by a pissed off Deathclaw, b) full of ferals, or c) picked over too badly, so it was a decent consolation prize after losing out on the mall’s offerings.

MacCready lingered outside for a few minutes, most likely to sneak a cigarette. She’d bet money on it, especially after catching him lighting up that morning. He kept on rubbing his lips at odd intervals, drawing her eye as he’d sigh in aggravation and tap out a rhythm against his rifle, and the sight sent an odd pang through her.

He wasn’t half as bad as Troy had been. He’d been a chain-smoker for years and had only started to slow down when Adam was born. She hadn’t been much better herself, starting fairly young, and only upping her use once she joined up, but after years of waffling on it, had managed to full-on quit shortly after she learned she was expecting.

Still, she understood that pull. If it had been five years ago, she would’ve crawled out of their near-death situation only to burn through an entire pack. If Mac wanted one, he could have it. He’d damn well earned it.

With him occupied, she started picking the place over. Water was always top priority, with food a close second. The first few items she stashed were entirely practical, but it didn’t take long for her to let up on the loose requirements she was standing by. When he rejoined her a few minutes later, the cigarette long gone, but the scent still present, she didn’t elaborate on the process; she just started passing things his way. With two backpacks in addition to the duffel from the mall, they could handle a little extra weight.

Pens were the first to get a pass. One of them was even red, and she slipped them into her jacket to save for Piper. She always kept an eye out for them, and you could never have too many spares. Cigarettes she snapped up for Nick, and she couldn’t pass up a decent map of Massachusetts that she could see Preston appreciating.

There was even a spare battery she could scav for her trouble. Whispering more than a few thank yous to the air, she lifted it up, half-hugging it to her, and froze in place when she caught Mac’s raised eyebrow. He’d been in the middle of dusting his hands off on his duster as he walked on over, but slowed down to a complete stop when he noticed what she was up to.

The battery slid in her grip, and she hoped to God it wasn’t about to land right on her feet.

“So, boss,” he began.

“Yeah?”

“I know you’ve got a method you’re working here, but…”

She shifted it in her arms to keep from dropping it. “But what?”

“You wanna elaborate on that? Cause from here it all looks like pointless crap to me.” He rocked on his feet as he stood there, watching her, and pointed at the battery in her hands. “Well, other than that. Batteries can be hooked up to all kinds of stuff, but that space monkey thing you forced on me earlier? You’ve got to share what exactly it’s good for fixing.”

“Moon monkey, thank you very much. But okay, it’s just…”

Something cute. Something innocent and silly that might draw a laugh or two. Something possibly for…

Her eyes fluttered as she forced the painful lump in her throat down. “Just something.”

She wrapped the battery up in an old newspaper and slipped it into the bag she’d placed on the floor. There wasn’t much space for it, but once she fished out the bottle of soda she’d nicked earlier, everything seemed to slot together better.

Her eyes continued to prickle at the edges, but she was sure they’d stay dry. At least for now. “Everything’s got a use. I figure I can ask Sturges about it later.”

“Sturges?”

“He’s a pretty handy guy back at home base. He’ll know exactly where to put ol’ Jangles to good use. And tell me he isn’t a little cute. Even a sliver.”

“With eyes like that?” MacCready shuddered. “No, not even close.”

She pouted, but let it go. “Anyway, it’s a system. Everything that I run into’s potentially something I can put to use later at Sanctuary, or on the road, but some items draw priority over others. Food’s food. Tasty, but with a side order of rads that’ll get the counter clicking. Water’s the same, but they’re essentials and worth the hit.”

Setting a hand on her hip, she lightly tapped the toe of her boot against a nearby bucket.

“Scrap’s easier to sort through. These are easy scores, but heavy. Duct tape and wonderglue are absolute lifelines. Oil cans are super light, but you need at least five or six to call it a good haul. I can’t even say how frustrating it is to siphon every last drop only to be told it’s just a hair below the minimum for the generator.”

“It’s a pain. Check. But what about that?”

He’d been subtly eying the soda ever since she’d pulled it out. “But this stuff,” she said, dangling the soda bottle in front of her,”...this was something worth keeping an eye out for. Before the war it was something, but now it’s got actual kick. You’ve got to put the rad in radical somehow, am I right?”

The joke was terrible even by her standards, but she somehow managed to pull a smile out of him. “ _Boss._ Really?”

“Hey, eighty percent of the time it’s worth it. The rads, that is. Okay, maybe the joke as well.”

Flipping the Nuka Cola up in the air only to catch it by its neck, she wandered over to MacCready and held it out to him. He looked between the soda and her, waiting to see if she’d take it back. When she didn’t, he tentatively took it, and didn’t let his eyes leave her until he’d popped it open.

“And the other twenty?” he said, rolling the bottle cap between his fingers for a few seconds before pocketing it.

“It’s the start of a really long day. Or week, if you don’t know a doc nearby. Heaven forbid you’ve got an aversion to needles too.” She shuddered. “Almost makes the rad sickness worth dealing with if you can avoid them.”

He polished off the soda in a quick gulp, and sighed. “Are you always this chatty, boss?”

“Nope.”

She circled a ripe salvage spot, and kicked away the pieces of sheet metal so she could get a better look at the baseball bat buried there. When he stayed silent, she turned just enough to catch the skeptical glance he was aiming at her.

“Okay, maybe. I don’t see anything wrong with it. It’s just a little friendly back and forth that hopefully won’t always be this one-sided.”

She pushed the brim of her hat up so she could get a better look at him, and the corner of his mouth rose. He always seemed to have a bit of a sardonic smile ready for her, but this seemed softer. “If you say so.”

“Hey, I was traveling with two other people before you, so there was always a conversation happening. Weather, local news, saucy details. The good stuff. I don’t know about you, but it’s sure as hell better than the alternative.” Rubbing her hands together, she wrapped her fingers around the handle of the bat, and gave it a tug. It was wedged in there, but not too deep. “Too much silence, and all I’m left with is myself, and I’ve had enough of that, thank you.”

With a mighty yank, the baseball bat came loose, and she turned it over in her hands. It wasn’t as damaged as it could’ve been, only sporting a few solid dents in the darkened wood, and she gave it an experimental swing.

“What do you think?”

MacCready watched her closely as she shifted into her rusty approximation of a batting stance, but wrinkled his nose when she acknowledged him. “That moldy thing?”

“It’s not moldy.” She didn’t dare sniff it to check, but it seemed in okay shape. “Could be prime swatter material.”

“The only thing prime about it, boss, is the fact that it’s past it.”

The part of her that was pushing two-hundred and thirty – was that right? She didn’t fucking know anymore - got mildly peeved at his remark, but brushed it off. He had no clue, none at all, and for a moment she found herself wondering just how old he was in turn. Her gut told her that she had a few years on him, maybe even a handful. The scruffy goatee he sported gave him an edge, but she’d never know for sure, short of asking him directly.

…But no matter the answer, she’d promptly tell him to get the hell off of her lawn, because she was supposed to be the grumpy elder of the two, dammit.

“Come on, use your imagination.”

“All right,” MacCready replied, rolling his eyes. “Let me set the scene for you. Raider knucklehead number one has a shotgun. Raider knucklehead number two has a pistol. Raider number three would have his gun out, but instead he’s rolling around on the ground laughing his head off, because someone forgot it’s stupid to bring a bat to a gunfight. They fire. You die. It’s a friggin’ mess. Done.”

V’s shoulders slumped. “Aww, come on, Mac, don’t be a killjoy.”

“Of course, a bat sure as hell beats a rock, but…what doesn’t?”

“Kill. Joy,” she emphasized, seconds away from flipping him the bird. “Way to shoot an idea down before it can get off the ground.”

He blinked at her for a few seconds, then sputtered, “Hey, that kind of conclusion’s pretty fu-freaking reasonable if you ask me!”

“Okay, you don’t want to carry it so many miles to the next settlement so I can hock it. I get it.” She tossed it his way, and was relieved that he left a hand free to catch it. “But it’s how I do business. I scav it, you bag it, so when I get paid, you get paid. Can’t get any simpler than that.”

“That still leaves me carrying more than half my weight in grade-A junk. That’s borderline ridiculous, boss.”

“Half?” She looked him up and down, giving him the quickest appraisal she could manage, and chewed on the corner of her lip as she considered him. “I know you’re weedy, but not _that_ weedy.”

The scowl MacCready wore came off more as a pissed off pout, and she found herself biting off a chuckle when he flashed his middle finger at her.

“Hey, I’m just messing with you. I know shooting’s what you’re good at, but I, for one, am over the moon that we’re able to shoulder each other’s burdens. Especially since half of the payout’s yours if you manage to help me haul it there.”

That got his attention.

“And it doesn’t hurt that we haven’t been shot at half as much as we could’ve been. In fact, I almost want to say that the odds of that happening might’ve gone down over the last few days.”

And okay, maybe she wanted to smooth out his ruffled feathers a bit. Seemed only fair since he’d taken it upon himself to keep her ass from getting shot. The way he’d kept up with the back and forth her drunk self initiated was simply a bonus.

“Compared to what? Before?” he asked, slipping the bat into the backpack.

“Yeah, never could go too long without some jerk trying to open fire on us out there, and that was when we weren’t unintentionally announcing ourselves to the Commonwealth.”

Out of all of her companions, Danse was likely the worst offender in that department, but the man lived in his power armor, for God’s sake. She’d seen him out of it a grand total of two times – once by accident – and a towering metal man was far from subtle, even if he made sure to tread lightly. Add her, and there was no hope of the two ever sneaking through an area without barreling through any resistance head-on.

“We, as in we? Or we, as in you?”

“I don’t like what you’re implying there.” V turned her nose up at his teasing tone, and made sure to glance away before he noticed her own burgeoning smile.

“Can’t deny the facts if they’re true, boss.” MacCready had been pacing around her, his hat drawn into the same careful position he eased it into from to time, but drew in close enough for her to get a good look at him anyway. “You want me to tell you how many cans you accidentally kicked on our way through here?”

“No, I don’t think you-“

“Four.” He held up his fingers, and wiggled them for extra measure. “And one broom.”

“The area was clear. We established that.”

“Clear, but you know how long it takes a mole rat or a feral to come barreling through here? No time flat. But if you were aiming to make a clean sweep…”

“God, we’re on a hell of a tangent, aren’t we? What were we going over again?”

“Your problem with a little thing called cover?”

“Hey, I’m actually trying to thank you here, in case it’s not painfully obvious. I haven’t even talked about the lovely death machine that would’ve taken my head off if not for your intervention.”

He rolled his eyes, but when she held his gaze, he started fiddling with the rifle strap slung over his shoulder. “I’m quick when it counts. And a boss usually needs to be alive to pay off the hired help, so…we cut down on the Deathclaw sightings, and you’ll only benefit. Just a thought.”

“Noted. It’s bad for the help too, I’d imagine.”

“It straight up sucks.”

“Good thing I have you then,” she said with a teasing grin. “You sure you aren’t a good luck charm of some sort?”

He stared at her for a second, but when that stare drifted down to her mouth, he laughed. The sound came out as a short bark as his shoulders shook, his attention swinging away from her. Puzzled by his behavior, she placed a hand on her hip and waited. What it was that she caught, however, was gone by the time he looked her in the eye again.

“I’m heading back outside. We need to keep an eye on our exits,” he said, tossing the pack her way before walking out. “You want more of this crap, fine, but you’re gathering it yourself. No amount of luck’s going to help me cover you if my hands are too damn full to shoot.”

* * *

Once MacCready left, she made a grab for a few more things. The silence grated at her with every step, and she found herself shuffling out in record time.

She was relieved to see he hadn’t gone too far from the entrance, only to a point where he could hole up without being seen. He raised his chin when she waved for him to follow, and she didn’t wait for him to catch up. Just pressed on, and hoped he wasn’t in the mood to drag his feet.

When the sun drifted low enough to cast everything in faded orange light, they shifted their focus from scavving to shelter. Most of the houses lining the street were blackened and falling apart, so she settled for the same method of narrowing them down that she used the night before.

_Eeeny meeny miney moe,_ she whispered to herself as she checked them out, and when her finger settled on the lucky winner, she motioned for Mac to follow her. Like before, her luck seemed to hold up. The place had a stable foundation and wasn’t too exposed to the elements, but more importantly wasn’t infested with raiders or mutants.

When they finished clearing the house out, they set up as best a barricade as they could for the house’s front door. The hidden mine on the doorstep was overkill, but overkill she insisted on while MacCready rolled his eyes and made sure the windows were shuttered.

Once they were both convinced it wasn’t going to draw a lot of notice, she worked on getting a small fire lit. Just enough to get some warmth into the drafty place, and to cook up some food too. Cooking had never been her thing, not even before when she had an oven and all you supposedly had to do was jab a few buttons and wait, but she’d gotten better at searing things over her time in the Commonwealth.

_Just a little_ , she repeated to herself as part of the squirrel stick caught fire, but she managed to put it out before too much damage was done. _Nothing like a little char on the old meat, eh?_

She made a face, and hoped that MacCready didn’t hear the snort that came with the thought. He hadn’t said more than ten words to her on their way over here, but seemed ready to, giving her passing glances every time he seemed sure her back was turned.

He continued making slow circuits around the bottom floor, rotating between lookout spots as she cooked, and once it was done she almost had to punch him in the leg to get him to take a break. The squirrel bits came out closer to crispy than charred, but he didn’t complain when she handed a stick off to him, and she found herself grateful for it.

Once that small victory had been established, they quickly ate what they could afford to, and put out the fire so they could move upstairs. Sleeping out in the ruins of town was always a gamble, but she wanted to give the area one last pass before clearing out.

She set up a small lantern, keeping it dim enough to light the room without burning too bright, and pushed it towards MacCready when he started going through his ammo stores. He counted the bullets one by one, readying spare clips for his rifle before storing them, and once he was done, reached for her weapons.

She hadn’t asked, and he hadn’t verbalized the offer, but she didn’t stop him. Just watched him work as she took small sips of water before returning to her pip boy.

She idly twisted her wedding band around her finger as she fiddled with the device, and tried to plot the rest of the path she seemed set on. They needed to swing back to Sanctuary at the end, that much was certain, but if they could stop anywhere else of note…

“Aha,” she said, tapping her nail against the screen.

“Aha, what?” MacCready asked.

She didn’t look up, but she could tell his eyes were on her. “Well, it’s not a set thing, but there’s a good chance we can unload some of this stuff at a settlement nearby. Of course we could always just backtrack to Goodneighbor, but we need to start heading northwest. Looping back’ll only chew up more time.”

He finished sorting through the extra shotgun shells, and set them aside. “Are we on a time limit, boss?”

“Not…exactly.” She bit the inside of her cheek, but not before getting the statement out. “I’d just rather not wander more than we should. It’s not exactly the friendliest place to settle down and get comfortable in you know?”

“Could say that for the entire Commonwealth. Even those places that are deemed ‘safe’.” He frowned and shifted his attention back to her weapons. “It never lasts. Only long enough to make a mistake somewhere and pay for it.”

“Is that what happened?” She bit her tongue shortly after the question left her mouth, and wasn’t surprised when MacCready gave her a sharp look. “I, uh, shit. That didn’t come out right.”

“Well, it’s out,” he replied flatly.

She pulled her hat off, and ran a hand through her hair. “Yeah, I know. Just forget it.”

He held her eyes for a beat longer than she expected him to, and when he finally glanced away, he sighed. “But you aren’t wrong. Working odd jobs out of a back room’s not the best set up I’ve had.”

“But it’s what you’ve got. Or what you’ve had to settle for?” He didn’t say anything, so she kept on going. “Triggermen?”

He shook his head. “Nah, they’re too in love with that whole old-world, pre-war gangster crap. ...But when you’re looking for work and the thing you’re best at is aiming a gun, you’ll take whatever work you can get. Even if it means working with a bunch of a-holes that’ll shoot someone if they so much as breathe wrong.”

“A-holes?” She gave him a wry grin. “I think you’re being generous.”

“Damn straight. I’d rather call them something else entirely, but with a lady present…”

Her eyebrows flew up. _“What?”_

MacCready held strong for all of ten seconds before a smile broke across his face. “So that’s a hard sell to you too?”

She couldn’t muster up a single shred of offense. Not one bit, so she settled for pelting his arm with a small stone instead. “Ass.”

That didn’t stop his snickering in the slightest. “You’re the one that called me on it. And again with the rocks? That fight wasn’t enough for you?”

“Shut up. I was too lazy to go for my boot.” He rolled his eyes, and she sat up straight. “Don’t push me, Mac.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, boss,” he replied, and winked at her.

_Liar._ The corners of her mouth twitched up as she relaxed her posture, and folded her feet under her. “Now it’s your turn.”

“To?”

“To ask about this,” she said, holding up her Pip-Boy. “It’s only fair.”

“And ruin the mystery?” he joked. “Could’ve bought that or stolen it off of anyone. Vault dweller or not.”

“But…?”

“But say you were. That wouldn’t be the thing that gave you away.” She raised an eyebrow and he gestured towards his mouth. “It’s these. Anyone that has all of their teeth, and can flash ‘em with pride’s gotta be Vault-born and raised.”

_So, that’s what…that’s what it was?_

She thought back to how she must’ve looked in that instant, and nearly burst out laughing.“Bravo, Mr. Merc! You get a gold star.” It wasn’t a hundred percent right, but she’d give it to him.

“It’s harder to tell without the suit,” MacCready replied, looking her over. “Probably why you’re still breathing, honestly.”

Only a select few had seen her running around in the thing, but she was inclined to agree. Shedding it sooner rather than later had removed a large target from her back, even if she still held onto her Pip-Boy.

She chuckled, but the minute she felt her teeth tug at her lips, she released them. “Between you and me, I’m more a fan of red, myself. I’m honestly surprised you stuck with green.” His eyes snapped back to her face, and she picked at the rolled-up sleeve of her faded red shirt. “You know. Seems like Gunner colors if you ask me.”

“Hey, if it ain’t broke, no reason to fix it. Besides, it brings out my eyes.”

“Uh huh.” The crooked smile he gave her was slow, but one she didn’t mind returning. “I’ll have to take your word on that.”

“Likewise. At least the nickname actually makes sense now. V? Vault?”

“Not quite there, pal. There’s a little more to it than that,” she said, cutting in. “Not that V for Vaultie doesn’t crack me up any, but it’s actually a silly nickname my old squadmates used to call me. Could’ve just gone for my full last name, but they felt like being creative.”

He flicked his eyebrows up. “ _Real_ creative.”

She picked up the water she’d been nursing, and took a long swig of it. “Anyway, with it officially dark now, we need to go over watch. How did you want to divvy it up tonight? You had morning last time.”

He opened his mouth, probably to keep on going on the previous thread of conversation, but shrugged instead. “I’m fine with switching off, but…morning’s still sounding good this time around. If you’re okay with that, boss.”

“Sure. I think I’d do a piss-poor job of sleeping right now anyway.” She wrinkled her nose. “And I’ve never been much of a morning person, anyway.”

MacCready gave her weapons back to her, and reached for his rifle, every action telling her he was getting ready for watch instead of sleep. But once he had everything he needed – his hands drifting to his ammo belt and binoculars before leaving them in place – he leaned against the wall, and tugged the brim of his hat down low enough to cover his eyes. Only then did the line of his shoulders start to relax.

But it wasn’t until she heard his slow inhale and exhale that she was convinced he was asleep. Balled up against the wall, his rifle remained in the same position as before; laid across his lap, his hands holding it loose, but close, and she didn’t doubt that he could snap a few shots off at a second’s notice.

She climbed to her feet, grabbing Righteous Authority on the way, and crept towards the nearest window. The shattered blinds hid most of the outside world from her, but there was enough of a gap for her to pick out the trash littering the streets, along with the junked vehicles. She stood there for who knew how long, listening for anything other than the wind whistling through the wooden panels, and for once her luck seemed to reward her.

It was calm. Blissfully, wonderfully calm, and she could work with that. God, could she ever.

But for now it was just her. Left staring out into the dark as it stretched out into the horizon. She eased an unsteady breath through her nose and tapped her fingers along the side of her laser rifle, listening for anything that might break the quiet settling over them.

When nothing did, she settled for breaking it herself. Her fingers hadn’t been moving in any particular rhythm, but after a few seconds they found one that was familiar. It was an old song - practically ancient now - but one that the locals had taken to playing on the radio every now and then, and one that couldn’t help but tune in to whenever it came on.

The tapping helped, and before long she let a low hum join it.

A few scattered gunshots went off in the distance, and her voice cut off sharply. Usually one volley lead to another, and sure enough a few pops rang through the night. Soon they died down, however, and once they did, she let out a slow breath between her teeth.

When the silence started to creep in again, she let the old tune in her head play once more. Pulling her hat off, V combed her fingers through her messy hair, and snuck another look MacCready’s way, only to start. He was peering right back at her, his brows drawn together, and she fumbled for a quick response, only to hear him speak up. “Boss?”

“Sorry, I didn’t think… I’ll keep it down from now on.”

“No, it’s-I thought you’d turned on the radio for a second. No complaints here, I was just…” He let the sentence hang as she studied him, but didn’t elaborate further. That’s when a few more shots went off, drawing his attention to the window she was standing by. “They’re not getting any closer, are they?”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. Gunfire’s been cutting in and out, but it doesn’t seem to be coming our way.”

And she didn’t hear any howling, or damned clicking either. She could count the number of times she’d faced down one of the running bombs, but the suggestion of the rapid whirring that came with that breed of super mutant never failed to make her blood run cold.

“Good,” he said, drawing his limbs closer. “…The minute it starts to, kick the hell out of me, will you?”

She had half a mind to make a crack about how he’d try to shoot her if she did, but the unease crossing his features stopped her. “You got it.”

Her eyes went back to the window, and the burned out building next door.

And when his calm breathing joined the other sounds in the room, she didn’t turn to check. Not this time around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was really one elaborate excuse to get these two scavenging and talking. But hey, it's not all bad. The trick is seeing what happens when they make it back to Sanctuary. 
> 
> Thank you all for being patient with me, though! It took me way too long to wrap this last bit up and I hope it's not too rough around the edges.


End file.
